The Old Man and the Spy
by Holl-e-wood
Summary: oneshot, written after HBP and before DH. This was my take on what may have been an explanation for the actions of Severus Snape and Albus Dumbledore at the end of HBP.


_Author's Note: This scene takes place before Harry is collected from the Dursley's, before Dumbledore's accident with the horcrux-ring's curse, before Snape was recruited for the Defense Against the Dark Arts position, and before Snape's Spinner's End encounter with Narcissa and Bellatrix. In other words, just after the ending of _the Order of the Phoenix_. It is an attempt to illustrate the idea that before Spinner's End, Severus Snape had no idea what Draco's task was—or even to whom the task belonged—and also to explain his "I believe he means for me to do it, in the end," comment and his odd actions surrounding that line._

He burst into the office in a swirl of robes, cold fury etched into his face, sallow skin taut with anxiety. His greasy black hair framed his face, accenting his anger and making him look even more formidable. A muscle twitched compulsively in his jaw.

"Headmaster," the man said in a low voice, the formality of his greeting a small nod of apology for the brusqueness of his entry, "we have a problem."

"Severus, welcome." Albus Dumbledore greeted his potions master calmly, but sounded slightly distracted. He did not looking up from the pile of papers on his desk. While the professor waited disapprovingly, impatiently, off to the side, Dumbledore finished rolling up the letter he had been writing, tied it with a red ribbon securely to the outstretched leg of the waiting horned owl, and watched the bird soar out the window with the shadow of a frown on his face.

"Headmaster." Snape's voice was tinged with just the smallest trace of impatience. "This _is_ important."

He watched as the worried expression cleared from the silver-bearded man's face, as he looked up over the top of his half-moon glasses. "Of course, Severus—forgive me. It seems…certain matters… have been weighing too heavily on my mind of late."

Snape gave no response, fighting to master himself. It was difficult to keep from releasing his anger in a wave of obliterating rage—but he must not give in… he must remain in control…

"Severus…" That frown was back, and there was a dark question in the innocent words. "Is there any news?

Snape gave a small, inaudible sigh, those simple words suddenly bringing the unreality of the situation into sharp focus, abruptly, albeit temporarily, smothering his anger with the full realization of what he had actually come here to say. He had stormed away from his audience with the Dark Lord seething at himself and his double agent role and both his masters, but now—now, when he actually had to say the words out loud…

But Dumbledore, being Dumbledore, already suspected. His voice was gentle as he asked, "Has he given the order?"

Severus locked eyes with Dumbledore, refusing to allow himself the weakness—the decency—of looking away. He nearly spat the answer. "Yes."

They stared at each other for a moment, and finally it was the old blue eyes which looked away.

"I see," he said softly, but there was no hint of bitterness in his voice. Snape's eyes narrowed. Was the man actually... relieved? No more waiting, no more wondering—but—Snape's anger flared, and more of his message spilled out in a rush of contempt.

"There is a measure of uncertainty. The Dark Lord has contemplated this for longer than even I suspected. There is some other scheme that must come first—so it will not be quite so soon. At the moment I do not know what this other plan consists of, but I will, of course, attempt to discover specifics—"

How can he take this so calmly? Snape wondered, his mouth suddenly dry so that he cut off in mid-sentence, unable to relay his last, most troubling, but vital piece of information. What does this man know that he can stare death in the face and give it that superior smile, conquering even in surrender?

"Oh, I'm sure you will investigate, Severus," Dumbledore said calmly, and as those blue eyes suddenly regained their customary twinkle, Snape felt his anger drop away and a rush of sick-feeling pity and revulsion take its place. Something must have shown on his face, for Dumbledore suddenly leaned forward, serious again—worried, even—searching Snape's dark eyes as he asked, as he guessed the last part of his spy's message:

"Are you to execute this deed, Severus? Is that Lord Voldemort's plan?"

This time, dark eyes looked away first, filled with shame and with dread.

Dumbledore said nothing.

"There is still a chance, Headmaster," Snape said with difficulty, afraid to look up, coldness curling about his insides, dreading what that silence meant. He stumbled over his words as the idea rapidly took shape, "There is a chance that this first scheme of the Dark Lord's will change his mind—this success might cause him to move on and ignore the issue for a little while longer, so I might have time to—"

"Severus." Dumbledore held up a hand, and Snape cut off, realizing he was babbling, hating himself for showing weakness, but despising himself most because he did not have the control to give in to his pain and emerge the stronger.

There was a pause, then Dumbledore added softly, "I am sorry, Severus."

Snape drew in a sharp breath, and the coldness receded, leaving him shaky but relieved. The muscle in his jaw twitched again as conflicting voices in his mind cried that _he_ should be telling _Dumbledore_ this, denial that this could be happening, that it had finally come to this—that this old man had no right to be so strong when he himself was failing so miserably…

Snape stilled his mind and tried to regain some measure of meager control as Dumbledore continued, "Lord Voldemort means for you to do it in the end, I think, but I feel that if only we can discover what he feels must come first, we stand a chance of fighting back, rather than simply waiting to discover when the stroke of doom will fall."

Severus looked up again, suddenly unspeakably grateful for that "we," for the light of determination in those blue eyes, for the treatment of this impossible situation as though he were not to blame. Yet completing his mastery of self and tightening his control, he said only, "Of course, Headmaster. I will look into it as soon as possible."

Yet neither of them made a move to leave, and so for a long time the old man and the spy sat together, contemplating their separate fates and their united destinies, the consequences of mistakes long past and the trials they would face ahead…

…together.


End file.
